TMNT: Promise
by tmntpunx
Summary: 2k14 movie verse. Raphael sneaks out of the lair to see April on a hot summer day, only to drop in on her just before she is about to show the apartment to a prospective roommate. She is forced to hide Raph in the closet with the water heater, and things get heated as April examines her own feelings. Warnings: Sexual tension and swears. TMNT movie spoilers. RaphaelxApril.


April O'Neil was in between room mates at the moment, which made it completely acceptable to lay on the couch in nothing but a tanktop and her underwear. It was too hot a day for anything else.

Though Taylor had only shared the apartment with her for a few months, she had made it perfectly clear that New York City just wasn't for her. She had left a check for one month's rent, and a forwarding address in Ohio. April put up an online ad for a subletter after that. She was seeing someone about the apartment today, but she didn't expect it to go anywhere. This guy had been persistent, but she wasn't all that interested.

Though it had been easy enough to pass off her absences and late night entrances as Channel 6 news assignments, April had enjoyed being able to come and go as she pleased without having to explain herself. Unfortunately,Taylor had put the door chain on before April had come home on more than one occasion. Being forced to wake her roommate in the wee hours of the night (or technically, the morning) in order to get into their apartment was something April certainly did not miss. She wished she could afford to have the place to herself all the time; it made living her ridiculous life just a little bit easier.

Admittedly, things had been significantly less ridiculous lately. She might even go so far to say that things were as close to normal as they had been since the turtles had come into her life. But then she would remember Raphael's crooked smile, and the heat would rise in her face, and she would remember that she, and her life, where anything but normal. April frowned; she had not heard from Raphael, or any of the turtles since that night.

The night of the gala, Michelangelo and Donatello had waited while she gave her statement to the police. They had waited for hours. By the time the officer interviewing her had given her the go-ahead to leave, the sun was rising over the river. The turtles took her home after that; Michelangelo carried her in his arms up the fire escape, and Donatello kept eyes on the rear.

"Better safe than sorry," he had said, in his matter-of-fact way. There had been no way to discern if they were being followed by any lingering Foot Clan soldiers. April did not object. The last thing she needed was for the Foot to know where she lived. Though she was sure they could find her, if they so desired. She shuddered at the thought.

The turtle in orange had set her down gingerly on the fire escape, and he and his brother sat patiently as she jimmied the window into her apartment living room open. When they saw she was inside, safe, they both nodded. Michelangelo had smiled at her and said, "You did great tonight, April. Really,"

She had tried to smile in return, but she was so tired. Her weary eyes blinked slowly, her eyelids heavy. She was so tired, and the turtles were wasting no time making their way down the old, metal ladder. "Raphael," she had said with a shaking voice. "What about Raphael -"

April had talked to him, on the phone, after the attack, but everything had happened so fast. Something was wrong with Leonardo. Raphael was taking care of it. As grateful as she was that Donatello and Michelangelo were there with her, she wanted Raphael. She wanted to be wrapped in his arms, her head against his hard plastron. Raphael made her feel safe.

Donatello glanced up at her from under the rim of his glasses. "I'm sure Raph is fine," he said, gently. "He always is."

"You know Donnie's always right," Michelangelo grinned and gave her an exaggerated wink. "Hang tight, angelcakes. We'll see you again soon. Promise!"

And then they were gone.

She had awoken the next morning to a brief e-mail from Donatello. Leo was fine. They were fine. Everything was fine. Her pink rosebud lips pressed flat into a frown. She knew that was the furthest thing from the truth, but what could she do? It was a family matter. April sighed and peeled herself off the couch.

Master Splinter had put a hold on their weekly pizza night, and though April's skin might be loving the reprieve from all that pizza, the rest of her missed it, and the turtles who loved it, terribly. She frowned as she pulled on a pair of pants. As she wiggled into her jeans, her phone tumbled from the back pocket. How quiet it had been left her wondering if their Sensei had taken their shellphones as well. After Leonardo's affair with Karai had been discovered, it seemed that all of the boys were ostensibly on lockdown.

A heavy knock at the door jarred her from her thoughts. _Shit. The guy from the internet._ Her brow furrowed in irritation as her mind raced through all the possible scenarios that could have resulted in this stranger getting into her apartment building without buzzing her first. April briefly swept the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. _Get it together O'Neil. You need a roommate. Even weirdos like you need roommates. _She told herself, taking a deep breath. She could do this. April O'Neil put on her on-the-air smile, and opened the door.

"Hi! April O'Neil here for Channel Six News! Welcome to my apartment," she blurted, thrusting her hand forward for a handshake.

She was greeted by a deep, gravelly chuckle. "What?" The stranger's voice was muffled by a scarf.

April blinked. There was a hulking figure towering above her in the hallway, wearing a trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat. Their eyes were disguised by a conspicuous pair of yellow sunglasses. A hand wrapped in rags reached out from under the baggy sleeves of the trench coat, and three fingers wrapped around her own.

"Raphael!" she cried in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I snuck out. You know, to see you," he said with a shrug. It had been too long. Her heart skipped a little, now that he was standing in front of her again. April smiled at how hard he was trying to maintain his air of nonchalance. The turtle's frame filled the entire expanse of her doorway, and seemed even bigger squeezed into that almost too small old khaki coat. "So, uh, can I come in or what?"

April nodded emphatically, and waves of her thick auburn hair bounced around her shoulders. "Of course. Come in," she said quickly.

The turtle turned himself at a slight angle to slide through her door, which she swiftly shut behind him. Her urgency evaporated as he stood before her, leaving behind a quiet, timid joy. He was here, now. A small smile broke across her face. "It's good to see you," she said, a little shyly.

"'S good to see you, too," he said, rubbing the back of his head with his bandaged hand.

April took a step closer. Pushing herself up on her tip toes, she leaned forward, and gently removed the sunglasses he was wearing. She slipped them in one of his coat pockets before she began to unwind the scarf that covered the rest of his face.

"There you are," she whispered. She hadn't meant to say it aloud, but the words had escaped her lips none the less.

"April -" the turtle stammered, his eyes darting down the hall towards Taylor's old room.

"Don't worry about her."

The heat rose in Raphael's face at her words, and his cheeks flushed a dark green under his freckles. He reached for the scarf that hung limp in her hands. His fingers gently brushed hers, and he pulled back, quickly shoving the scarf into his coat. The longer they went without speaking, the more April felt herself flushing.

"Sorry it's so hot in here," she said, fanning her pink face with a shaky hand.

She reached into her pocket, producing a hair tie. With quick fingers, she gathered her waves of auburn hair up into a messy bun on top of her head. It was too hot to wear it down any longer. A bead of sweat rolled down her neck, pausing at her clavicle. Raphael stiffened slightly, his broad chest straining the coat he was wearing.

The turtle cleared his throat. "So, uh, how've you been?" he asked.

April shrugged. "Oh you know, the same. Work is work. And Taylor left, so I'm looking for a new roommate. Kind of."

The enormous turtle's entire body sagged in relief with the threat of discovery off the table. He drew the coat above his waist, and April's eyes lingered on his thick, muscled thighs. The turtle drew his sai from his belts, slowly, deliberately, and gently placed them on the coffee table before them. The coat fell back down, and his loin cloth disappeared beneath it; April did not notice as he wiped the back of his forearm across his brow to mop away the sweat.

"How are you?" she asked, her voice eager. "How is everyone?"

A flicker of disappointment crossed Raphael's face. As if she should only be asking him about him, instead of him _and _his brothers. He sighed. "Things are weird back home. I had to get outta there."

April frowned, her meticulously maintained brows knitting together in concern.

Raphael shrugged his massive shoulders. "Leo and I got into it again today."

His brow ridge was furrowed and his mouth was deeply set in a frown. April sighed. "Oh Red, I'm sorry."

The turtle shrugged again, but said nothing more. It had felt like forever since she had last seen him, but in reality, it had only been a few weeks. Hardly enough time for the family to get over Leonardo's betrayal of their trust. April's lips pressed together as she recalled how Leonardo had looked at her and Raphael, sitting a little too closely on the pizza couch. How his eyes had narrowed when Raphael would say something that made her laugh. How the eldest turtle had frowned when Raphael would leave his brothers to walk her out of the lair when her visits were over. And then, just like that, it had all stopped. Leonardo had stopped noticing. Her heart ached for him, and how hard it must be to suddenly be so present after months of distraction. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to come back to your family only to have them resent you.

"You know, Raphael…we all make mistakes," April said, trying to be gentle.

"How can you defend him?" Raphael snapped, his face twisting bitterly.

Refusing to be taken aback by his outburst, April looked up at the turtle, meeting his gaze. "I'm not saying what he did was ok. I'm just saying people make mistakes." She said, softly. "No one is perfect, not even Leo."

Before either of them could say anything more, a loud buzz rang out across the apartment. "Shit," April muttered. "The guy from the internet."

"What guy from the internet?" the turtle bristled.

"There's a guy from the internet coming to check out the apartment."

Raphael frowned.

"I'm sorry Raph - I had no idea you would be showing up today," she said, her panic showing in how quickly she was starting to speak.

The hulking turtle exhaled loudly through his nostrils. "I should go," he reached for his sai on the table.

April lunged in front of him, pressing her hands against his taut biceps, so obviously, painfully constrained beneath his trench coat. "Nononono!" She protested so hurriedly that her words all slurred together. "Stay. This will only take a minute. Promise."

The turtle began a protest of his own, but April had already taken his hand up in hers and was dragging him down the hall. When she swung the closet door open his entire face went flat.

"You gotta be kidding me."

"This'll only take a minute," April repeated. "Promise."

The buzzer sounded again, and April leaned into Raphael in a comical attempt to push him into the closet. Raphael rolled his eyes and let his mouth curl up into a slight smile. "All right all right already," he humored her, hunching down in order to squeeze himself into the impossibly small space. She closed the door gently behind him.

April buzzed the guy from the internet in. Shortly after, a knock came at the door, and when she opened it, he walked right in. His cologne wafted behind him; warm and earthy, with an undercurrent of spice. He was tall and broad, wearing a tee-shirt that accentuated his toned core and thick biceps. Long brown hair fell around his shoulders as he turned around to meet her, face to face.

"Hey," he said, casually. "The name's Jones. Casey Jones."

His arrogance set her teeth on edge. April had met a hundred guys just like this one. Tall, dark, and all too aware of just how handsome they were. She stifled the automatic impulse to say something polite, like "nice to meet you". It would have been a lie. "I'm April."

"Hey April," Jones gave her a measuring glance. "…have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Nowhere important," she sighed. "Let me show you around. It's a small place, it shouldn't take long."

"That's cool," he shrugged. His brows raised in surprise. "You do martial arts?"

The guy from the internet was pointing at Raphael's sai, which were splayed out across the coffee table among scattered old issues of National Geographic and the cup of coffee she had abandoned earlier that morning. Even in the morning, it had been too hot for coffee. April swallowed. "Yeah, I dabble."

Casey Jones chuckled, and April shrugged. "Well, that's the living room," she said, curtly. "Moving on."

April opened her arms, gesturing to the open living room. She pointed to the kitchen, rushing through an explanation about the cabinets, and how there was practically no other storage space in the apartment. Casey Jones followed her down the hall; she pointed to her room with its open door, explaining that the rooms were almost equal in size, so the rent was divided equally between roommates. Next, she opened the door to the empty room and let him step inside. She crossed her arms over his chest as he paced the perimeter of the room, and peered into the closet. He nodded, seemingly satisfied.

A bead of sweat rolled down his brow. "No AC?"

April shook her head slowly, careful not to exert any more energy than she had to in the heat. "No. It's an old building."

"Fair enough," he said.

"Let me show you out," April replied, shortly. It was hot, and Raphael had already been in that closet for too long.

As they made their way down the hallway, Jones' eyes drifted to the closet. April's own eyes widened when she saw the door was slightly ajar. _Damn you Raphael_, she thought desperately. She skipped ahead of Jones, pulling the door shut tightly with a slam.

"I thought you said this place didn't have any storage," he said. "What's in here? The rest of your wardrobe?"

April shook her head.

"Oh. So your shoes, then?"

"The water heater," April answered, coldly.

Something clattered in the closet, and Jones stepped forward to inspect the sound. "What was that?'

"Rats." April was quick to wedge herself between him and the closet, with her back to the door. She smiled, nervously. "Big rats."

Jones nodded, trying to seem sagely. "Well, this is New York, after all."

"Yeah," April chuckled, kicking her heel up against the door to make herself clear to Raphael. "New York."

April swung around Jones, ushering him out of her apartment. She opened the door, and stood before it with a disingenuous smile. "Have a nice day, Casey Jones."

"That was fast," He chuckled. "But I like it fast."

"It's a small place," she repeated, flatly.

"Yeah. You're right," Jones said. "Well, I'm still interested. Even with the rats."

She frowned. After complaining about every old appliance, drafty window and unresponsive superintendent, he was still interested. _WHY? _She wanted to scream, but what good would that do.

"That's not all I'm interested in," he said, interrupting her train of thought. A wry grin spread across his face. "You've got my number."

April's brow furrowed. The older she became, the more she resented being beautiful. Her appearance was integral to her career, of course. Her colleagues in the newsroom were quick to remind her of that at any opportunity. Though her delicate face and full lips might have given her the upper hand over her competition for the coveted journalism internship she received, she had worked just as hard, if not harder than any of her colleagues to get where she was today. After making thousands of copies, and hundreds of hours of unpaid overtime prepping debriefs for the news team, and countless coffee runs so everyone could look her best on air, she was still just treated like a pretty face. But that was going to change.

"I've got a lot of other interested applicants," she said, flatly. "I'll let you know if things work out."

"Cool, thanks," he said, still smiling. "See you soon, O'Neil."

The man sauntered down the hall, and April let out a little huff of exasperation. It was clear that Casey Jones was used to things working out. And then her eyes widened. _Raphael!_ She had been so wrapped up in her own agitation that she had almost forgotten the turtle crammed into the closet with her water heater. She hoped Jones heard how loud she slammed the door behind him.

"Oh, Red, I'm so sorry," she said, as the closet door swung open. "That guy just would not leave."

Raphael tried to stand, but his knees buckled. The closet was stifling, and he had been stuck in there wearing that ridiculous trench coat and hat.

"Raphael. Why didn't you just take that thing off?"

The turtle's chest heaved. "No room," he grunted. He was right. His enormous body filled the entirety of the closet, which had obviously only been built to house the water heater that hummed in its recesses.

Raphael's enormous body lurched forward, and April fell back against the wall. Raphael's arm shot out, and he caught himself before all of his weight crushed her beneath him. April let out a shuddering breath. He was so close she could smell him under that old trench coat. The aroma of sweat and leather filled the space that barely existed between them, and something surged through her. She felt her nipples harden under her shirt, and she hurriedly crossed her arms over her chest. He looked at her with his amber eyes, and she bit her lip. Hard.

"He wouldn't leave because you're hot," the turtle said woozily.

April felt something hot and wet welling up at the corner of her eyes. _No. Not you too._ Her lips pressed together in a frown. "Is that why you're here, Raphael? Because you think I'm hot?"

"Well, yeah, but," the turtle stammered. "I mean, I came to see you."

"You came to see me, because I'm hot," April repeated, her tone flat.

"No! Ugh, I - I came to see you because I mi-"

"Whatever, Raph," April didn't need to hear anything else. She ducked, and slipped out from under his arm.

"April, come on," he began, teetering forward.

"Shut up and sit down Raphael," she snapped, pointing definitively at the couch. "And take that ridiculous shit off."

The turtle crumpled on her couch without further protest. He took off his hat, and started fumbling with the trench coat buttons. The relentless New York City summer day only made this more difficult; his fingers were slippery with sweat, and he could barely hold the buttons between them. April diverted her gaze, too pissed to care if he was having trouble. She paced the kitchen in a huff, pouring him a glass of water, then opening the freezer door with a sudden jerk.

"You know that's not what he meant," he huffed and puffed, still struggling with those damn buttons.

"No, no - I get it," April said, bringing an ice cube tray down over her knee with a loud snap. She dumped the loose ice cubes into the cup.

When she was done, April strode into the living room with the glass of water. Raphael sat on the couch, hanging his head. April let the glass thrust the glass in his face.

"Drink this," she ordered.

"Thanks," he said, reaching slowly for the water.

His fingers brushed her hand; she jerked away, and the glass almost fell on the table. Raphael's eyes widened beneath his red bandana, and he fumbled to catch it. Being overheated had made him slow, left him off center. April folded her arms across her chest. She might have come bearing gifts, but she didn't want him to get the wrong idea - she was still utterly irate.

Raphael took a deep gulp of water. His throat undulated as he swallowed; April could feel her nipples getting hard again. She pressed her arms over her chest again, harder this time. Water escaped the corner of his wide mouth, and ran down over his bottom lip. Her eyes lingered on his lips; her thoughts drifted to his crooked grin, the way he looked away from her when she made him smile. When she realized he was looking at her, his eyes resting on hers, she quickly diverted her gaze to the floor.

April took a deep breath, and sat down on the other side of the couch. She kept her eyes on the floor.

"I didn't mean it like that," Raphael said apologetically.

"Whatever, Raphael," April muttered bitterly. Once the turtles had all thought she was their hogosha; their guardian spirit. But she had just been a little girl when she had saved them from the laboratory that could have just as easily been their tomb. Now that she was a woman, she was just a pretty face. Even though she had taken a sai to Shredder, and seized that mutagen, and swung herself at their greatest enemy as they all dangled miles above the city streets, she was still just the froth. The foam. Something sweet for Raphael to feast his eyes on after he was done saving the world.

"I get that I'm just a pretty face."

"Hey," he said, his tone even and steady. "I know your co-workers might think that you're all frills,"

"Foam."

"Whatever," he grumbled. "The point is, just 'cause they think that, doesn't mean I do."

"It's not just my co-workers!" April cried out. "It's everyone. That guy -"

He reached across the couch, and gently closed his fingers around hers. His touch stopped April in her tracks, and she looked up at him and his amber eyes. Raphael smiled gently at her and said, "Fuck that guy."

She felt her face soften then. Maybe he was different, after all. _What the hell, April._ She chastised herself. Of course he was different. And he was still wearing that damn trench coat. The collar hung loose around his throat with few sad buttons hanging on their sides, but the rest remained in place.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry if those other people let your bein' gorgeous keep them from seeing how amazing you really are."

April sighed. _Damn you, Raph._ "Let me help you with that," she leaned in, her deft fingers undoing the buttons with ease.

The buttons strained against the coat as he breathed. She worked quickly, avoiding his gaze. Each button came undone, surrendering to her touch. Soon the coat fell away, revealing his broad, muscled abdomen. He shrugged it off over his shell; his shoulders were glistening with sweat. The scent overwhelmed her, and April suddenly felt a deep pang of remorse that she had been too angry with him to undress him sooner. The coat crumpled in a pile on the floor.

She felt like a teenager, sitting on the couch with some boy she had brought home after school. But when she had been a normal teenager girl, kissing normal teenage boys, the hardest thing she had ever had to do was hide them from her mother. If they decided to do this, whatever this was, she would have to hide Raphael from the entire world. In spite of all that, he was here, now, with her, just like she had wanted.

April had thought having him here would make her feel safe, but instead, she just felt flustered. A thousand other feelings were rushing up inside her at the same time, but those were less…easily defined. And that terrified her. She swallowed loudly. The silence between them was just as palpable as the humidity.

Raphael surprised her when he spoke. "I should go," he said, hesitantly. "Sensei will know I'm gone soon - if he doesn't already."

April nodded, and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes trailed to the door, and Raphael let out a slight chuckle.

"I think I'll take the fire escape, this time," he gestured backwards with his thumb. "It's too hot for that damn coat, anyway."

The turtle stood, his full height towering over April as she sat on the couch. He bent, and snapped his sai back into his belt. April considered asking him when she could see him again, but she hesitated. Why ask a question she knew she wasn't going to like the answer to? So instead, she smiled her on the air smile.

Raphael shook his head. "Don't gimme that bullshit."

"What?" April blinked.

"I can tell when you're smiling your fake smile, your 'I'm April O'Neil, the gorgeous news reporter Smile'. Like you are right now."

She laughed, and her rosebud lips blossomed into a smile. A real smile. Raphael smiled then, too. "That's more like it."

The turtle hopped out the window with ease, and peered into her apartment from the fire escape. "I'll see you soon. I promise."

Hearing the same last words Michelangelo had shared with her made April's heart sink. But what could she say? As he turned to leave, she looked to the floor, where his coat and hat still laid crumpled at the foot of the couch.

"Raphael!" She cried hastily. The turtle glanced over his shoulder at her, his brow ridge creased in confusion. "You forgot something," she finished.

April leaned out the window, and pulled down on the edge of his plastron, bringing the biggest turtle to his knees with a kiss. Raphael's eyes widened, before they closed, but April didn't notice. Her eyes were already closed, as her lips lingered on his, which were so unexpectedly soft, and warm and full. She could feel how he hesitated, and she opened her eyes. His hands were by his side, clenched in fists. April raised a hand, and gently stroked his face. She felt his tension melt away as she held his cheek in her hand.

"I'll see you again soon?" she asked.

"Promise."


End file.
